Fire & Rain
by Elvii
Summary: When Rachel takes over Waterloo Road, she wasn't expecting the complication of year 10 student Isabelle Munroe. Stubborn and tempestuous, Belle is accustomed to rubbing teacher's up the wrong way; but what is it that she's hiding? And for that matter, what is it that Rachel is hiding, too?
1. ONE

**So this is set in series 3, shortly after Rachel's arrival. Belle is in the same year as Bolton, Danielle and Aleesha, which I believe is year 10? It's hard to work out when watching. I'll be flicking between the canon storyline and Belle's original storylines. I've got a vague plan of where I want her story to go, but other than that I was wanting opinions- canon divergence in series 4 so that Rachel and Eddie get together sooner and the Melissa and Eddie plot never happens? Let me know your thoughts and any feedback on Belle. Thanks and enjoy!**

CHAPTER ONE

It was 6:30am and Isabelle Munroe was sneaking out of her bedroom window. Dropping onto the garage roof and climbing down the adjacent fence, she hurried up the driveway, only stopping to shoot a furtive glance back at the house.

She arrived at school absurdly early, she sat beneath her usual tree and brought out her journal, writing in it leisurely as she enjoyed the peace she wouldn't have been afforded had she lingered at home.

As she sat there, she absentmindedly watched the cars trickle in. Usually the canteen staff were the first to arrive, but the last week or so, it had been the new headmistress pulling into the car park before anyone else. The woman always shot a curious glance in her direction, but had never asked why Belle was there so early, for which she was grateful. One less awkward conversation to have.

Eventually, the students started to trickle in. It wasn't long before she was joined by Danielle and Aleesha, and soon enough was surrounded by the usual gang of Janeece, Maxine, a safely returned Chlo, and Bolton and the lads.

"Hey Belle, you done Clarkson's essay?" Aleesha called across the group.

"Finished it last night, why?"

"Feel like letting me borrow your conclusion?"

"I'll give you a look in registration, but you can't copy word for word, Clarkson'll throw a fit!"

"Ah, you're a babe!"

The bell rang, and she linked arms with both Aleesha and Danielle as they headed to their form.

* * *

The day was progressing as most days did until break, when a fight broke out between Bolton and another boy in their year. It was as he was pacing in the cooler alone, still fuming, that Belle found him.

"You alright?" She asked, slipping in whilst there was no teacher around.

He glanced up in surprise, which quickly turned defensive. "What d'you want?"

Belle held her hands up in mock surrender. "Chill! I'm not Miss Mason." She moved closer to perch on one of the desks. "So, what happened?"

"You mean ya don't know? Thought the whole school was there."

"I was in the music room, wasn't I?"

"Swear ya spend half your life there," he stopped pacing as they caught each other's eye and grinned, "nah, it was that prat Kade from our maths class. Winding me up and that, talking shit about me mum. He said it was no wonder me dad didn't stick around."

"That's well out of order, that is! I'd've decked him one too, if he said that to me."

His expression seemed to grow softer, and he collapsed into the chair next to the desk she was sitting on. "I forgot about you. In the same boat, ain't we? Me with no dad and you with no mum."

They continued talking, unaware of the three adults outside the room. Eddie held an arm out to prevent Rachel and Tom from opening the door. They watched in awe as Bolton was quickly and calmly talked down by the young girl engaging him in a clearly compassionate conversation.

"I have never seen Bolton Smilie look so calm after an incident before." Tom commented.

Rachel was staring at the Belle curiously- there was something she was missing here, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Before she could figure out what it was, the pair in the cooler noticed the teachers outside. Belle jumped off the table in a flash, shooting a quick goodbye to Bolton before darting out the door.

"Sorry, I was just uh- giving Bolton his class work. I'll be off now!"

Despite the obvious lie, none of the adults felt the need to call her out on it, still rather impressed with the way she'd managed to de-escalate to Bolton.

* * *

It was the end of the day, and Rachel was sat in her office, still thinking; and that was how Eddie found her.

"Weird day, huh?"

"You can say that again! Listen, I've been meaning to ask about the girl with Bolton-"

"Who, Belle? She's alright. Good grades, Matt's little musical prodigy! Bit of a temper, though. Seen her fair share of the cooler."

Rachel nodded, listening intently. "What's her name again?"

"Isabelle Munroe."

Rachel stiffened slightly; although not enough for Eddie, who was watching the students trailing out of the gates from her office window, to notice. She eventually unfroze, and stood to join him. After a moment or two she realised that she was unconsciously searching for the flash of auburn hair that she saw sitting on the grass before school each morning, that she saw through the window earlier that day. Then she picked up on something Eddie had said.

"Musical prodigy?"

Eddie gave an appraising laugh. "Oh yeah, Matt raves about her! Been playing a bunch of instruments for years, I'm sure I've heard him say she writes her own music too? Pretty impressive stuff. She's in the music room after school most days."

Well, that would explain why Rachel couldn't see her outside.

"Do you mind, Eddie, I've got a little bit of paperwork left to fill out. I'll meet you at the pub in a bit?"

Eddie looked at her in surprise, but nodded, bidding her farewell before heading out.

Once he was gone, Rachel made her way to the music room somewhat apprehensively. She heard the piano notes before she even reached the corridor. Pausing at the door, she watched as the young girl poured her heart into the piece.

Belle paused, as if sensing she was being watched, and turned around.

"Miss Mason!" She turned around on the piano seat fully, "Mr Wilding knows I'm here, he gave me permission!"

Rachel smiled, tentatively moving further into the room. "I know that. It's Isabelle, isn't it?" She sat on one of the stools near the piano.

"Uh, yeah. Almost everybody calls me Belle though." She was still unsure of why her headmistress was there, but she wasn't about to ask for fear of seeming rude.

"The piece- it was Chopin, wasn't it?" Rachel asked, smiling at Belle's surprise, "Fantaisie Impromptu?"

"Yeah! Yes, it was! How did you…?" She trailed off, realising that it was a strange question: many people liked classical music, and it was pretentious to think she had a monopoly on the genre. She just wasn't used to others being able to name the pieces she played.

"I used to listen to Chopin a lot in uni," Rachel replied, "I tried playing piano for a while, but I didn't have the patience- especially for that piece!" Her voice softened, "you have a gift."

"Thanks, Miss." Her confusion must have bled into her voice, but before Rachel could explain, Belle's phone started ringing.

She frantically pulled it from her pocket and held it to her ear. "Dad!...no, I'm at school...I'm practicing my piano…" the girl sighed, somewhat panicked, "I'm sorry, alright?...I'll be home as soon as I can!" She put her phone away and grabbed her bags, including what looked like a violin case. She only remembered that she wasn't alone when she got to the door.

"Uh, sorry about that. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss." She shot out the door like a bullet, racing through the hallways of the school in her rush to get home.

"Bye...Isabelle." Rachel said, sighing. Her life and job just got a hundred times more complicated.


	2. TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Belle's night had been a lot quieter than usual. She'd arrived home apprehensively after the phone call, only to find her father already engaged in a harried phone conversation. He'd barely spared her a glance before he'd slammed the door of his study, not to emerge for the rest of the evening. She'd made herself dinner and kept to her room, studying and writing her music.

Which was why she was so upbeat the next morning. She sat in her usual spot until her friends arrived, even giving her headmistress a small wave (although she was met with only a strange look and a tight smile). Then she headed to her form with the gang, laughing louder than usual. Sliding into her seat besides Sameen, she gossiped with her friends and bantered with the lads.

Her good mood continued into maths, then chemistry, all through break which she spent debating the pros and cons of various football players with the girls, and even during french.

* * *

Several teachers passed comment in the staffroom at lunch, which was why Rachel was so shocked when Jasmine burst through her doors during fourth period.

"Rachel, quick! Michaela White and Belle Munroe are at each other's throats!"

"What?!" She exclaimed, jumping up and hurrying through the corridors after the english teacher.

"It was lucky I was on my way past! Tom looked like he was having a hard time pulling them off each other.

Sure enough, when they got to the classroom, Tom was shouting and attempting to keep both girls at arm's length while they were both lunging at each other. The rest of the class was cheering and egging them on, and Paul was filming on his phone.

"_What_ exactly is going on here?" Rachel asked, storming in.

The noise immediately died down, with everyone returning to their seats other than Michaela, who stepped back, and Belle, who despite the presence of two teachers and her headmistress, took one more lunge at the other girl, only to be restrained once more by Tom.

"Isabelle!" Rachel shouted, getting a reaction this time, "are you quite finished?"

Belle had the sense to look sheepish, but didn't respond.

"Both of you- cooler, now!"

The pair trailed out, followed by Tom. Jasmine picked up with the class as he spoke to Rachel outside.

"What on earth set this off?" She asked with a sigh, a crease appearing between her brows.

"Oh, the usual. Michaela being a pain, winding Belle up. Belle being hot-headed and reacting with her fists."

"Ok, but what was said? Eddie and Steph were saying barely an hour ago that Isabelle was having a good day today."

Tom thought briefly. "I didn't hear a lot of it, they were muttering, but Michaela was goading Belle about her home life. It's not too different from yesterday's fight between Bolton and Kade, to be honest."

Rachel nodded, beginning to put the pieces together. "But Isabelle threw the first punch?"

"From what I could make out, yeah. But Michaela gave as good as she got."

"I don't doubt it. Thanks Tom, I'll take it from here."

By the time she got there, they were both arguing and Grantly, who was on cooler duty, was snapping at them to shut up (to no effect).

Rachel entered the room and the pair fell silent at last. Grantly scarpered, pleased to be relieved of his obligation.

"Mr Clarkson told me what happened. Girls, to say I'm disappointed is an understatement." Rachel leant against one of the desks, looking from one to the other. "Fighting in the classroom? You're better than that."

Michaela thrust her chin out challengingly. "Miss, she just went for me! She hit me first, everyone'll tell ya!"

Belle remained silent, staring ahead defiantly, not meeting Rachel's eyes or acknowledging her words in any way.

"From what I can gather, Michaela, you were pushing for a reaction. And you're not the only one with bruises here." Rachel nodded to Belle, who, sure enough, did have the beginnings of a bruise starting to form on her cheekbone.

"It was self defense! What else was I supposed to do when she just swung at me?"

Rachel cast a glance over at Belle, who hadn't moved an inch. "Isabelle? Do you have anything to say?"

For a long moment, Rachel thought she was about to be ignored. Then Belle spoke, slowly and with a level voice.

"No, Miss."

Rachel sighed heavily. "Right, Michaela, you stay here for the rest of the day, and you're on detention every lunch for the rest of the week." Michaela made a noise of disgust but sank back in her seat, apparently accepting her punishment. "Isabelle, would you come with me to my office?"

The girl said nothing, but scooped up her bag and slank out the room after Rachel.

* * *

She was silent the whole way to the office, still not looking her in the eye. When they got there, Rachel directed her to the sofas and closed the door before sitting opposite her.

"Isabelle?" No reaction. "Belle?"

She looked up, still staring resolutely ahead, but responded this time. "Yes, Miss?"

Rachel frowned, recognising the signs of a child who'd closed themselves off: the lack of eye contact, the folded arms and hunched posture, the flat voice and almost monosyllabic answers. "I understand why you reacted the way you did."

This drew a disbelieving scoff out of her.

"No really, I do. Michaela was taunting you and you saw red." Rachel said gently.

Belle eyed her warily. "I'm not sorry for hitting her." The way she said it was like she expected Rachel to give up after that, like that was the end of it.

"I'm sure you're not. Mind if I ask what it was that she said to get you so riled up?"

Belle considered her for a minute, finally meeting her eyes. "She was talking shit about my...situation at home."

A shadow flickered across Rachel's face, not that Belle was paying attention.

"What situation is that?"

No sooner had Belle opened up ever so slightly, she shut herself right off again. "Nothing."

"Belle… I'm trying to help you here. Let me help." Rachel practically pleaded with her.

"You can't." It was this turn of phrase which surprised Rachel when it came from Belle's mouth. "So just give me my detention and let me go."

Rachel scrutinised her carefully. "If you can't give me a good reason for your actions then I'm afraid it won't just be detention. You started a fight with another pupil: that's a two day suspension, Belle."

The shift in Belle's demeanor was instant and jarring. "No! No, Miss please no! You can't- I can't! I can't be at home for two days!"

Again, the wording made Rachel stop slightly. "Why? Is something wrong at h-"

"No!" Belle jumped in. "I'm just worried about missing school work. Can't I just spend two days in the cooler instead?" Her huge brown eyes were begging.

"I still need a reasonable explanation for your behaviour, Isabelle!" Rachel leant closer to her, spotting tears beginning to spill over her lashes. "Help me so that I can help you, hm?"

Belle hesitated, but gave in. "She was just saying that like, it was my fault my mum abandoned me. That nobody would ever want me, cos' not even my mum stuck around."

Rachel let out a long breath. "She's wrong; it wasn't your fault, Belle." She said softly.

"You don't know that, Miss."

Rachel had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from responding. Then she moved to her desk and pulled out a form from one of the draws. "I think two days isolation in the cooler will do just fine, don't you?"

Belle physically sagged in relief. "Thank you, Miss. I mean it."

"But you've got to promise me, Belle, that you'll try to ignore what people say. Girls like Michaela are just trying to get a rise out of you- don't let them."

"I don't make promises," Belle muttered, then when she caught the stern eye of her headmistress, "but I can try."

* * *

**So there you are! Thought it would be good to see Belle in action, with the added bonus of some bonding at the end there. Thank you for all your reviews, I'm grateful for any feedback and suggestions for improvements. Let me know if it sounds clunky anywhere, or if the characters are ooc. I used to write fanfiction years ago, and I'm just getting back into the swing of it! There will be more focus on Rachel and possibly other teachers in the future, but for now the focus is mainly on Belle as the story is really hers, and I don't want to give too much away too soon, although I'm sure it's a little obvious where this is headed! Thanks again for reading :)**


	3. THREE

CHAPTER THREE

Rachel collapsed on the sofa as soon as she got home. It had been a long day and an even longer few weeks. As rewarding as the job was, it was also draining; and the recent revelations had only added to that.

Almost as soon as she sat down, though, her phone began to ring. She'd been anticipating it, but had rather hoped to have at least a little time to relax before the storm hit. With a heaving sigh, she hit the accept button.

* * *

After the events of the day, Belle had expected a massive fallout at home; the school _had_ to inform her father of her behaviour. To her complete shock, her evening was much the same as the one before, with her father locked in his study on what she assumed was one of his work calls.

She flung herself on her bed when she got in, groaning into her pillow. She'd had a narrow escape today and she knew it. If it hadn't been for Miss Mason…

She pulled out her phone, finding several texts from her friends congratulating her on giving Michaela White a black eye, an MMS from Paul with the video of the fight attached that appeared to be part of a mass text he'd sent, and more surprisingly; a text from Bolton reading: '_hrd bout Michaela, well out of order. nice rite huk tho. BX_'

She smiled slightly before settling back on her bed and pulling out her book for english class.

* * *

The next day was peaceful. Once again, Belle arrived in a good mood. This time though, when she smiled at her headteacher, she got a small wave in return. When her friends arrived, they were loud and boisterous, laughing and still talking about the fight. Bolton sidled up to her.

"Yo, mad respect for not taking Michaela's crap. S'cool that you can stand up for yourself 'n' stuff."

She smiled at him. "Thanks. Did get me landed in the cooler for two days though!"

"Yeah well, maybe I'll come join ya! Mouth off, start another fight meself?"

"What, just to keep me company?"

"Maybe," he looked away, trying to act casual and unbothered, "solidarity, innit? Me in a fight cos of me dad, 'n' you cos of yer mum."

"Yeah, I guess. Solidarity."

* * *

The day passed slowly, doing classwork and subtly checking her phone when one of the teachers popped out the room or when Grantly nodded off. Her mates were keeping her up to date on the drama, and at Waterloo Road there was a lot. She spent lunch outside, joining Danielle and Aleesha in a lighthearted boys versus girls football match against Bolton, Paul and Dom. True to his word, after lunch Belle was indeed joined by Bolton in the cooler for giving cheek to Miss Haydock. If any of the teachers suspected any ulterior motives however, they didn't say anything.

"When you said you'd come keep me company, I didn't think you meant it!" She muttered to him.

"I was just bored, wasn't I?" He grinned.

"What, like it ain't boring in here?"

"Nah. At least, it's not when I ain't alone."

At the glare and reprimand from the science teacher on cooler duty, the pair fell silent, but continued to exchange grins.

Rachel happened to pass in the corridor and caught the interaction. She was under no illusion that Bolton being there was a coincidence, but it reminded her of the other day, seeing Belle talk him down effortlessly, and she wondered if they might just end up being positive influences on each other. With a wry smile and an unreadable emotion in her eyes, she continued on her way.

* * *

Belle should have known the day was too good to last. She'd stayed an extra hour in the music room as usual, then made her way home.

Within seconds of entering the house, she knew what kind of night it was going to be. Her father was grumbling angrily and letting out the occasional yell in the living room, and the could hear thumping as his heavy footsteps hit the floor.

"Izzy?" He barked after hearing the door close behind her.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Just where the hell have you been?"

She peeked round the door, allowing the frame to shield most of her already trembling body.

"I was doing my music Dad, like you asked. So it can be perfect."

He didn't comment, but stared her down with a critical eye. "Get in here, now!"

She took a hesitant step into the room.

"Do you have any idea what kind of problems I've had because of you this week?" He stalked over, towering over her.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again, it was just one fight-"

"I'm not talking about some petty squabble with your classmate!" He shoved her backwards into the wall. Her back would bruise, she knew it. "I'm talking about REAL! ADULT! PROBLEMS!" He roared, flecks of spit flying from his mouth. He punctuated each word by grabbing her by the arms and slamming her repeatedly into the wall.

Her head had been knocked, and he was gripping her arms so tightly he'd leave finger marks the next day, but it wasn't over. He flung her across the room, and she landed with a crash, her shoulder hitting the coffee table before she crumpled to the floor. Then he was kicking, still yelling almost unintelligibly about how difficult she was, how she ruined his life, how she was nothing more than a waste of space.

Belle didn't move until ten minutes after his outburst was over, and he'd left the room for his study. She half stumbled, half ran her way to her room, before closing the door behind her and sliding down it. Only when she was in the confines of her room did she allow herself to cry.

* * *

On the other side of Rochdale, Rachel Mason was sat at her kitchen table with a glass of wine, on the phone with her deputy.

"_Why are you so invested in Belle Munroe, Rach? She's hardly our biggest troublemaker."_

"I know, I know. There's just...something _off_ there. How jumpy she is about her home life. Just ask around, will you? Perhaps her other teachers have noticed something? Maybe start with Matt and Tom?" Rachel subconsciously started fiddling with her necklace; a nervous habit.

"_I'll give it a look. But honestly, she isn't displaying any of the typical signs: she gets high marks in almost every subject, she takes part in numerous extra-curriculars, she has a good group of mates. Yeah, she's got a bit of a temper but that's about it!"_

"I know, I know. Call it a gut instinct though? Don't you find it odd that she's always at school so early? Before me, even!"

"_Perhaps." _There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone. _"Rach, is there a reason you're getting so involved with Belle?"_

Rachel closed her eyes and allowed her head to drop onto her arm. She debated trusting Eddie with this, just telling him straight up and allowing him to perhaps help her out? But her natural instinct to push him away and keep her walls up won out. "No, no. Just concern for a potentially at-risk child."

She finished the phone call wondering whether she maybe should have trusted him, but it was too late by then. This would have to remain one of her many secrets.

* * *

**So there you have it- Belle's secret is revealed. Thanks for all your kind reviews, it means so much to me! I'm going to be very cheeky though, and ask for your opinions on two specific things:**

**1\. The next chapter is a big one- it's _the_ big one! I'm only halfway through writing and it's already at 2k! Would you guys rather I finish and upload one long chapter, or would you rather I split it up into two? There are a few places I can see to do this, but I want your opinions.**

**2\. It has been mentioned that this trope has been done a lot, which I am more than aware of! So to counter this so you guys don't feel like you're reading the same story again and again, I was hoping you'd give me some trope feedback: what do you like with these stories, what's been done to death, what would you like to see more of? Do you prefer canon divergence? I'm looking for ways to make this story a little more original, and the best people to ask for these ideas are you lovely people- the ones who read them!**

**Thank you all!**


	4. FOUR

**Thanks again for all your lovely reviews, they mean such a lot! I've left the main bulk of this chapter as one, but the conversation after the fact I've saved for chapter five. As always, any feedback is welcome, and I hope you enjoy!**

CHAPTER FOUR

It had been several weeks, and life had carried on for Belle. Her father had been angrier than normal, and his attacks more vicious; but he'd also spent more time than usual locked in his office shouting down the phone. She'd been studiously avoiding her teacher's questions, which had seemed more probing than usual, asking about her wellbeing and home life. She didn't know if something had tipped them off, so she shut off as much communication with all of them as she could, darting out as soon as class ended and dodging them in corridors. She'd found Tom Clarkson to be particularly bothersome, cornering her in the canteen and encouraging her to come to the pastoral care office if she wanted to talk.

Rachel, meanwhile, had been keeping as close an eye on her as she could. She was standing at the window in her office, watching as Belle sitting on the grass, eating lunch with her friends. It was only a day after the situation with Sally Froggatt, and she couldn't deny that it had affected her. Feeling like a hypocrite for judging the mother's parenting skills, she made up her mind to take action: no more arguing, no more trying to compromise. She'd go after school, and she'd take control. That was the way she liked it.

As though the universe had read her mind however, during fourth period the situation was taken out of her hands once more and any sense of control she'd felt at her decision to stop holding out was lost.

"I need to speak to Rachel Mason!"

"Do you have an appointment?"

"My name's Jonathan Munroe and I'm pulling my daughter out of school, I'm sure she can make time for me!"

Bridget opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the office door opening. "Bridget, is everything al- ah." Rachel stopped at the sight of him, a strangled sort of exclamation leaving her lips.

"This is Mr Munroe, and he says he wants to pull his daughter from school. Do you want me to-?"

"Everything's alright, thanks Bridget," Rachel smiled reassuringly at her secretary before turning to Jonathan, "if you'll step inside, I'm sure we can talk this through."

He strode by her into the office. Rachel shut the door behind her and slid the pane of glass across, giving them total privacy.

"Jonathan."

"Rachel."

She walked round to her side of the desk, where she felt most comfortable and more able to take control of whatever confrontation was about to take place.

"You can't just take Isabelle out of school, it's the middle of the term, she's in the middle of her GCSEs."

"I don't want her here. She can go to another school: Forest Mount's nearby, and doesn't have nearly the reputation that Waterloo Road does!"

"But she's settled here! She's got friends, she's involved with the school musical, she's been achieving high grades-"

"She can make new friends! And of course she's getting high grades, she knows I won't stand for anything less!"

Rachel paused slightly, adding his comment to her mental 'Concern For Isabelle Munroe' folder. "It's extremely disruptive to remove a child in the middle of the term." She said evenly, trying to remain level-headed.

"Was a teacher not murdered last year? I'd say it's this school that's disruptive!"

"Jon, she's happy here! She's an A grade student! Moving her to another school is more likely to lower that grade than increase it!" Rachel was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Yes, but at least another school won't have _you_ as a head teacher!" He roared, slamming his hand down on her desk.

Rachel stood her ground, forcing herself not to flinch, but unable to keep the anger and disdain from leaking into her tone. "And _there _it is! The real reason behind this! You're willing to sacrifice our daughter's education just to spite me!"

"_Our _daughter? OUR daughter?!" His eyes flashed dangerously. "She is _mine_! You lost the right to call her yours when you walked out on her!"

Rachel froze. "I did not walk out and you damn well know it! I had to move away to finish my teacher training, and the moment I was gone you blocked my number, moved house and took away my access to my daughter!"

"I didn't get any phone calls from your lawyer, _Rach_!"

Several people called her Rach. Her sister was one, last time they'd spoken on the phone (all the months ago that had been). The one friend she'd kept in touch with from university was another. And more recently, Eddie Lawson had been added to that list. She didn't mind it when any of these people used that nickname. In fact, when Eddie used it, she found herself quite liking the way it rolled off his tongue.

The way the man in front of her said it, though, made her shudder on the inside. And what was worse was that she had no comeback for him.

He smirked, knowing this. "Or did I miss those calls, hm? Because if, like you say, you _didn't_ abandon your daughter, when I moved away you surely will have tried to get her back? Tried to find me? My mother must also have missed those calls from you, asking where I was? And the custody lawsuit you will have filed, to get Izzy back...lost in the mail? Or could it be, Rachel, that you did none of those things, because you _did_ walk away from her? You moved away, moved on, and never once tried to get her back! She doesn't even remember what you look like, doesn't know your name!" He sneered, leaning closer to her. "But you know that, don't you? Because you've been at this school for how long, now? You've had conversations with her, even!... And she had _no clue_ that you're her mother."

Throughout his long, brutal tirade, Rachel didn't move an inch. She was right, he knew; she was a failure of a mother. But, she thought as she straightened her back and met his eyes with her own steely gaze, that did not mean that she would be a failure of a headmistress.

"I've made my mistakes- plenty of them. I have let that girl down in a way I can never forgive myself for." She moved around the desk to stand directly in front of him. "But I will not let you take her out of this school. I won't let you ruin her education like this."

Jonathan opened his mouth angrily, but before he could respond, there was a knock and the door opened, Eddie stepping into the room with a blissful unawareness of the heated argument it's two occupants had just had.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude!" He said lightly, eyes drifting over the other man with his dark suit and imposing stature.

"You didn't!" Rachel painted on a smile that was just a little bit genuine, relieved he had arrived when he did. "Eddie, this is Mr Munroe, Isabelle's father." She then turned to the taller of the two. "This is Eddie Lawson, my deputy head and Isabelle's maths teacher."

The two men shook hands.

"Belle's not in any trouble is she?" Eddie asked, shooting a concerned glance to Rachel.

"No! But Mr Munroe here seems set on removing her from school. I've been trying to tell him that it's in Belle's best interests to stay here and avoid the disruption."

"Well yeah, at least until the end of term! It'll be incredibly hard for her to handle an upheaval like that in the middle of her GCSE studies."

"Sadly, Mr Lawson, I've made my mind up. She leaves- today!" He stalked out of the office, stopping in the outer suite to ask Bridget for the necessary forms.

Back inside, Rachel pulled Eddie by the arm so she could whisper to him.

"Eddie, there's something I should have told you about Belle."

"Are you still thinking that she's unsafe at home?" He muttered. "Because now even I've got to admit, I can see your cause for concern. And the others have all said she's been evasive when asked, and remarkably skittish recently."

"There is that, but there's something else too-!" She was desperately trying to rush the words out before Jonathan finished signing the papers.

"Right! Now that's all sorted, I'll be collecting my daughter and leaving." His voice came from the other room.

Eddie and Rachel shared an identical look of horror before dashing after him, all thoughts of clueing him in put to the side.

* * *

Belle was in English, sat next to Danielle with Bolton and Paul behind them. They were in a group of four, told by Mr Clarkson to brainstorm points of analysis for their upcoming essay on Othello. Of course, they most certainly were not discussing that.

"Aw, come on Belle, me and Aleesha are going! You can sleep round mine after if it's easier?" Danielle was imploring.

"It's gonna be a right laugh! Janeece's parties are always fun, and what with having the house to ourselves, it's gonna be mint!" Paul laughed, slapping his fingers together. "Plus, everyone's gonna be there!"

"He's right! All of year ten, eleven, _and_ twelve are going!" Danielle shoved her good naturedly, and Belle had to hold her breath to keep from crying out as her friend accidentally knocked one of her worst bruises.

"Plus," Bolton said as he leaned closer, "I'm gonna be there. That's reason enough, innit?"

Belle let out a genuine laugh. "I can try. Might have to sneak out though."

Bolton let out a victory whoop before apologising to their teacher.

Belle knew that if she got caught sneaking out to a party, things at home would only get worse, but looking at Bolton and her friends grinning at her, decided it was worth it. "It's ages away yet though, innit? Janeece's birthday isn't till November!"

"Yeah but we gotta plan ahead like! Yous can all meet at mine before, I'm only round the corner." Bolton said.

"Hey, if Belle went round yours straight from school, she won't _need_ to sneak out!" Danielle said, looking quite proud to have found a loophole.

Both Bolton and Belle flushed red as they met each other's eyes.

"I mean, ya can if it's easier. Me mum won't mind, she likes ya."

"I guess that could work?"

Paul had started talking about booze and where best to buy it without ID but Belle had now stopped following the conversation, something outside the window catching her attention and causing her to freeze.

Her headteacher and deputy were clearly having a heated argument with her father as they walked to the classroom door. Her _father_. Her _father _who was _in her school_. She could feel her heart in her throat. Her hand had been resting on Bolton's arm and for a brief second she thought his temperature had skyrocketed- until she realised it was her hands that had just dropped several degrees. All she could hear was white noise and her head was spinning.

"Belle," Bolton's voice had reached through her veil of panic, "Belle, are you alright? Who's that with Mason and Lawson?"

"My dad." She managed to choke out. She stood from her seat and left the room, leaving her bag and books behind and ignoring the shouts of her friends and teacher.

Tom looked to Eddie as she left, who gave him a nod to let him know it was alright for her to leave. Still, he couldn't help worry: he'd seen the look on her face when she saw the man who could only be her father and it hadn't been comforting. The concerns raised about the girl over the last few weeks came back to nag at his mind, but there was nothing he could do. He reassured himself that she was with Rachel and Eddie, neither of whom would let anything happen to her; and turned back to his class.

"Izzy! There you are."

"Dad, what are you doing here?" She positioned herself to the left of and partially behind Rachel, something Jonathan didn't miss and was none too pleased about.

"Fetching you. We're leaving this school, and we're leaving now!"

Eddie stepped forwards. "Mr Munroe, I really think you should reconsider-"

Jonathan ignored him, placing a hand possessively on his daughter's back and guiding her down the corridor. He'd calculated exactly where to place pressure- right on top of the most recent bruise, so that when he pushed her forward it was a painful reminder to her of what would happen should she disobey him.

Belle shot a panicked look over her shoulder at her two teachers, who wasted no time in following as they rushed through the school.

"You're making a mistake!" Rachel pleaded, anger bleeding into her voice.

"Dad, please! I like it here!"

"And you can like it elsewhere, too!"

"But my friends-"

"You'll make more!"

Belle turned to Rachel desperately. "Miss-!"

Before she could answer the girl, Jonathan had stopped and turned to his daughter.

"Don't go looking to her for help! She's never helped you before, and she won't start now!"

They were stood in the wide entrance corridor. Jonathan had a bruising grip on Belle's upper arm, and they were borderline shouting.

"What do you mean?" Belle asked heatedly, scrunching her face up in confusion.

Eddie, too, was thrown by the comment. "Rach?" He turned to her. "Do you two know each other?"

Rachel was stricken, looking between her deputy, her daughter, and her former boyfriend.

The loud trill of the bell cut through the tension as students began to swarm the corridors.

Jonathan pulled Belle through the doors that were already being opened by several students as they made their way out.

"Dad, _stop_!"

Rachel muttered a hasty apology to Eddie before following.

"Jonathan! Stop this!"

People were staring. Eddie stood at the top of the steps outside, watching with narrowed eyes. Bolton had rushed out of the building with Belle's bag in his hand, closely followed by Danielle and Paul, clearly having followed her straight from class.

"_What's going on?"_ Belle shouted, looking from her father to Rachel, then back again.

"Belle-" Rachel took a step towards her.

"In the car now, Izzy." Jonathan began to forcibly drag her away.

"OI!" Bolton rushed forwards.

"NO!" Belle wrenched her arm from his grip, face contorting in pain with the effort. She stepped backwards, towards the school. "I'm not leaving."

Her mind was racing, she knew that such open defiance was bound to have dire repercussions at home, but the only thing she could think was that this place was her safe haven, and she wouldn't allow him to take it from her.

Rachel came up to stand beside her. "She doesn't want this," she said softly, almost pleadingly, to the man before her.

Jonathan was becoming increasingly manic, visibly shaking in anger. "_You_ don't get a say in this, Rachel! Not anymore!"

"This isn't about me-"

"No, this is about _my_ daughter, and what's best for her!"

"Staying at the school she loves is what's best for her!"

"This isn't your decision! You lost the right to have an opinion about Isabelle 10 years ago, when you left her!"

Silence. The crowd that had accumulated stopped dead, Rachel froze in place, Jonathan shut his mouth abruptly when he realised what he'd just let slip in his fury.

Belle thought for a moment she'd misheard. "Dad… what?"

"Izzy…"

It hit her. She looked from her father to the woman she now realised was her mother with wide eyes, as if begging one of them to correct her assumption. Neither did.

"Isabelle," Rachel said, reaching out for the girl. Belle jerkily stepped back, out of her reach. Written all over her face was shock, anger, hurt, betrayal… Rachel wanted to cry at the painful cocktail of emotions in her daughter's eyes. Belle stood stock still, seemingly unable to act. Her eyes darted from Rachel, still with her hand reaching out to her; to her father, who had turned his back and was running a hand through his hair. She took in her friends, murmuring in shock, and Bolton, who hadn't taken his eyes off of her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Eddie, whose face was unreadable but who was staring a hole through the back of Rachel's head. Then she took one last look at her mother, who looked like she was about to say something else.

Isabelle turned and fled back into the building.


	5. FIVE

**Hi all! Sorry for the delay in updating; things have been a bit hectic. Y'know: _life! _Hope this much needed conversation chapter makes up for it! Thanks for reading, and enjoy!**

CHAPTER FIVE

It took a moment for Rachel to unfreeze. She saw Jonathan storm off to the car park; to leave, to calm down, she didn't know. She started towards the school, only pausing by her deputy.

"I-"

"I know," he said, his voice measured and his face blank, "just go after her."

She nodded gratefully, hurrying inside and looking down the corridors leading off from the main entrance, finding them empty. Belle must have been running.

"Miss!"

She turned around to find Bolton Smilie had re-entered the building. "Not now, Bolton, please-!"

The lad merely shook his head- he hadn't come to give her aggro. "You might wanna check the music room, Miss."

Shooting a small, appreciative smile his way, Rachel headed in that direction.

* * *

Belle, meanwhile, had tried to drown her screaming thoughts in her music, as she so often did, but as she played the familiar notes on the piano, she found herself repeating the same sections of music over again as she became more and more distracted. Her headteacher was her mother. Her _headteacher _was her _mother._ _Her headteacher was her mother!_ The thought just went round and round in her head as her fingers darted across the keys, until eventually her mind had had enough. She hit the piano keys with both hands, creating a jarring, crashing cacophony of noise that she found strangely suiting.

"Hey."

Belle jumped, but didn't turn around. She'd been half expecting it. "Hey yourself." Her words came out harsh, and her voice was shaking from either anger or sadness- most likely both.

Rachel took a few tentative steps into the room, perching on the edge of one of the tables. Their position wasn't so different from that of their first conversation, and although they both privately acknowledged this, neither said anything. "I know this must be a lot to take it-"

Belle scoffed; shook her head; still didn't turn around to face Rachel. "It's the truth, then?"

Rachel could tell by the tension in her posture and word's that Belle was angry: a coiled spring waiting to jump. She cleared her throat and spoke softly. "Isabelle…"

The clatter of the piano stool made her jump as Belle stood up so fast she knocked it over. She shut the lid on the piano with a sharp bang and leaned against it, breathing heavily and still not trusting herself to look at the woman (her _mother_). "Is, it, true?" She ground out with a locked jaw.

"Yes," Rachel said simply- there was no use dodging it now, it would only hurt her daughter more, "it's true."

Belle finally turned round, and Rachel almost flinched at the fury being held in the girl's small body. IT was seething out of every inch: the clenched fists, the curled posture- like a lion about to attack, the clenched jaw, the narrowed eyes. Those hazel eyes so much like her own that were currently aimed, like torpedoes, at her. "How long have you known?" She said lowly.

Rachel swallowed. She'd been expecting several questions- _why did you go, _or _why did you stay gone_, or _where have you been_? She hadn't prepared for this most practical of questions. "A few weeks. Since I first talked to you properly."

Belle nodded. Not an unexpected answer. "Do any of the teachers know?"

Rachel's brows knotted together. She was unsure of this line of questioning, and the rage still emanating from the girl's eyes and body was not matched in her voice. "No, not yet."

Belle nodded again, jerkily. A deafening silence fell upon the room, the air between the mother and daughter thick with unsaid words and emotions- anger mixed with guilt mixed with anguish mixed with desperation.

Belle clenched and unclenched her fists a few times before letting out a breath and taking a few steps. At first Rachel thought she was moving towards her, but she didn't even spare her a glance as she headed for the door. Moving quickly, she caught the girl's arm and stopped her.

"Isabelle, _please_!"

That was it. Whether it was the words, or the tone of voice, or the fact that Rachel had made contact; that was _it_ for Belle.

"NO!" She yelled, whirling round so fast Rachel had to take a step back. "No, you don't get to swan in here, all _understanding _ and _begging_!" The anger that had been contained inside had exploded out, and Belle couldn't stop it. Everything was _red_, the room was _red_ and her words were _red_ and when she looked at the woman who'd given birth to her all she saw was a thick blanket of _red_. "You left me, not the other way around! So stop with your pleading looks, _stop_ with your 'please's and STOP saying my NAME!" Belle was panting, her chest heaving with the ferocity of her words.

Rachel didn't know what to do, what to say. Belle was right: she had caused this. She had caused this and she didn't know how to stop causing it, how to take it all back and have her daughter by her side once more.

Belle wasn't finished. "You didn't want me, _Rachel_," she spat the name like it was a curse, like just saying it would burn her tongue, "you didn't want me then and you don't want me now."

Rachel just then realised why Belle had asked those two questions: she wanted to know if she'd had time to approach her, and she wanted to know if she'd been open enough to tell others. In her mind, Rachel's answers had meant that she knew who she was and _still_ didn't want her, and it had meant that she was ashamed of her and didn't want others to know. She was wrong, the only person Rachel was ashamed of was herself. A tear escaped her eye. "That's not true, Belle."

"Ten years say differently!" Belle looked her up and down before meeting her eyes. "You're not my mum."

Belle ran from the room, wanting nothing more than to keep running, all the way to some distant place where none of her problems would stick around to bother her. She wanted to scream. To scream and to run… and maybe punch something on the way. But most of all, she wanted both of her parents to leave her the hell alone.

* * *

Rachel trudged back to her office, feeling somewhat numb. She hadn't meant for it to be like this. The accusations Isabelle had hurled at her had cut deep- but what hurt more was that they were, for the most part, true. She could hardly blame the girl for being angry- as much as she tried to deny it, she _had_ abandoned her. Not intentionally, but when she found that Jonathan had taken her and left, she'd thought maybe that was for the best. Maybe Isabelle would be better off without her.

When she reached her office, she was unsurprised to find Eddie waiting for her. She closed the door gently behind her and turned to face him.

"I know I should have told you."

"Yeah, you should." Eddie's face was ever the unreadable mask to her.

She moved over to sit on the sofa, resting her head in her hands briefly before looking up at him. "I'm sorry, Eddie."

He sighed, and moved to sit on the adjacent sofa. "I know. It's not entirely your fault, I suppose," he caught her eye, "this is what you were trying to tell me earlier on, isn't it?"

She nodded and swiped at the tears on her face. "I just didn't know how to say it, and then we both got swept up in the drama, and…"

He reached over and tentatively bridged the gap between them, placing his hand comfortingly on her own. "I understand, Rach." He got a watery smile in return. "To be honest, you had every right to keep this to yourself, and you had no clue it would blow up at school like this."

"I forgot what a temper Jonathan had, honestly." Rachel shook her head.

"Yeah well, at least we know where Belle gets it from now." Eddie's attempt to lighten the mood fell mostly flat, other than a slight upwards twitch of Rachel's lips, which he counted as a minor victory. "Look, the only reason I think you should have told me is so that you weren't dealing with it alone."

This was enough to make the tears pooling in Rachel's eyes spill, as she squeezed her eyes shut and lifted the fingers not currently in contact with his to her mouth, pressing down to stop the sobs she could feel coming. Without thinking, she turned her other hand over and grasped his tightly, intertwining their fingers and allowing herself this small comfort. Why it was a comfort to hold hands with the deputy she was so often at loggerheads with was beyond her at that moment, but she didn't much care.

Eddie, for his part, allowed her to have her small breakdown without interruption, giving her space to compose herself; but he gripped her hand just as tightly, letting her know that he was there when she was finished.

After a minute or two, she heaved a breath and ran a hand over her face, wiping the tears away. "She hates me, Eddie."

He scoffed lightly. "No, she doesn't."

"Yes, she does. You should have seen the- the _rage_ she had. I've never seen anything like it. She hates me-" Eddie opened his mouth to protest again, but she cut him off "-and she's right to."

"Rachel…"

"No, Eddie. She's right- Jonathan was right- I abandoned her. My own _daughter_. What kind of person does that make me?"

"A normal one. You're only human, Rach, you make mistakes just like the rest of us. And whether you've done it consciously or not, I reckon you've spent your entire career making up for your mistake. Never giving up on a child, trying to make a difference in their lives? You don't think your passion and your drive now stems from your choices back then?"

"You don't even know what happened back then, Eddie, how could you possibly-"

"So tell me."

She looked into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity, and compassion. So she did. She told him the whole story. How she'd started a relationship with Jonathan Munroe in university and how barely two months in, she'd found out she was pregnant. She'd been on the pill, but had caught a sick bug and hadn't considered how that would affect the medication, and thus: Isabelle Jean Munroe was born. They'd raised her together but not really _together_ until she was five. They'd been happy, found a norm. She'd taken a longer course so she could stay with her daughter, graduated several years after her peers. She hadn't minded...much. She'd then needed to take the teaching course on top of her degree, and had received an offer from UCL and had taken it, but Jonathan hadn't wanted to move away from his job at his high-powered law firm, so he'd offered to stay with Isabelle for the two years it took Rachel to qualify.

Rachel told Eddie how she'd left her daughter. How she'd tried to keep in touch, call at least once a week, but how Jon had slowly pulled away, always citing a busy schedule or a need to get Isabelle fed or bathed or put to bed. How when she returned to the house she'd left them in, it was empty. How he'd blocked her number. How she'd just accepted it. Not called a lawyer or the police or even his family to track them down. She'd just left it. Left _her_.

Eddie listened patiently, squeezing her hand every now and then in support. And when she finished, he moved to sit directly next to her, on the same sofa. "Rachel, you were young. You were overwhelmed. God knows I didn't make the best decisions in my twenties! All you can do for her now is make it up to her."

Rachel shook her head, staring at her lap. "She doesn't want me. She told me! She looked me in the eyes, and she told me I wasn't her mother!"

"But you _are_!" He tugged on her hand, making her look up at him. "You are her mother, and you always will be. Belle will come around eventually, she just… she needs time to wrap her head around it, I think."

She gave a slow nod, wiping the last of the tears from her face. He had a way of calming her down. She didn't know how he did it, but he had a habit of reminding her of the rational when she became worked up. She smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Eddie. And I really am sorry for keeping you out of the loop."

"You don't need to thank me and you don't need to apologise. I think you do need a drink, though. I'm buying."

She was tempted to turn him down and retreat to the sanctuary of her home, but after the events of the day, she conceded that maybe she shouldn't be on her own.

"If you insist."


	6. SIX

CHAPTER SIX

When Belle left the school after the row with her mother, she was immediately confronted with Bolton Smilie. Suppressing a groan, she made her way over to him.

"Look, before you start-"

"Wasn't gonna."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You weren't?"

"Nah man!" He held her bag out to her. "I grabbed it for ya when ya didn't come back to class."

She took it from him with a half-smile. "Thanks."

"Yer dad left, by the way. Just got in his car 'n' drove off." He sounded mildly concerned.

"Thought he might've done. He doesn't really stick around after a confrontation, prefers to lock himself in his study and stew over it instead."

"You gonna be alright?" He may not be the most academically inclined, but Bolton wasn't stupid, and he'd _seen_ the look on his friend's face when her dad had shown up.

"Yeah, course." She was only half lying. She knew she wouldn't have a run in with her father when she got home, because he'd already be locked in his office. That fight would come another day. It was only her own emotions that would be a problem.

"I don't believe ya, but I ain't gonna bother ya, either. If ya wanna talk about it, well," he looked at the floor, his shoulders rising in an unsure shrug, "I'm here, y'know?"

She smiled inwardly. "Thanks, Bolt. Really."

They started walking towards the gates.

"If ya tell me to piss off, I won't blame ya, but… did yer dad mean what I think he meant?"

Belle heaved a sigh. "Suppose the whole school's gonna know by tomorrow anyways," she shoved her hands deep into her pockets with a frown, "yeah, apparently Miss Mason's my mum."

"Woah. That's tough, man."

"In a biological sense only!" She said, shooting him a warning look.

He held his hands up. "I didn't say nothin'! But you didn't-?"

"No, I didn't know before today."

"That's crap luck, that is."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Tell me about it."

They walked in silence for a while, until they came to the point where their paths differed.

"I'm this way," Belle said awkwardly.

"Right, and I'm-" he pointed in the opposite direction.

"Right." She hovered. "Thanks… for sticking around, y'know?"

"Nah, B, don't mention it. Just-" he paused and she raised an eyebrow, "you're not actually gonna leave, are ya?"

"I dunno. My dad wants me to, but I'm happy at Waterloo Road. What happened today should've distracted him for a bit, at least."

"Yeah, hopefully. It'd be proper boring without ya, is all."

"Yeah?" She grinned at him.

"Yeah." He grinned back. "Who else am I supposed to share the cooler with?"

She let out a genuine laugh at that. "Well, when you put it like that!"

"I'll see ya tomorrow then?"

"For sure." Before she had chance to second guess herself, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before walking off, forcing herself to keep staring ahead so she didn't see his reaction, or the wide smile spreading over his face.

* * *

True to her word, when the next morning rolled around, Belle was back at school. She was not, however, on time.

"Belle Munroe!"

She looked up and groaned when she saw the deputy head standing in front of the doors.

"Sorry I'm late, Sir, it won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't. But it's nine-thirty! School started forty-five minutes ago."

"I know, I didn't mean to-"

"Miss Mason's office, now."

She froze. "No."

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"No!" She shook her head stubbornly. "I'll go to the cooler, I'll take detention, anything else- but I'm not going to see _her_."

Eddie's voice softened slightly, knowing how hard it must be for the kid. "Look, Belle, this isn't just about you being late, alright? The school's been trying to get in touch with your dad, we need to know whether or not he's still pulling you out of this school."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

He sighed. "Just- come on. I'll be there too. You won't have to be alone with your mum if you don't want to be."

She groaned again. "Does _everybody_ know?"

Her teacher's wince was answer enough. She sighed and followed him through the school to the head's office.

"Rachel?" Eddie said, gently ushering Belle through the door before him.

Rachel looked up and relief spread across her face. "Isabelle!"

Belle narrowed her eyes and raised a brow; she looked, in Eddie's opinion, startlingly like her mother- so much so that he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.

Sensing the tension, he took the lead, closing the door behind them and standing between the two. "Belle, we had a bit of a panic when you didn't show up to registration this morning, your dad _did_ sign the paperwork to pull you out yesterday."

"Yeah, well, you can shred it. I'm staying." Belle crosses her arms over her chest.

Rachel couldn't help but let out a small smile. "That's good. You've spoken to your father then?"

A shadow flickered across Belle's face. "Yeah. We had a, uh, conversation this morning."

"Is that why you were late?" Eddie asked, not missing the way her voice tightened around the word _conversation_.

"Yeah. He said I could stay." She paused, before shooting a spiteful glance towards Rachel. "He only wanted me to leave because of _you_, but now he knows I don't want anything to do with you, he's fine."

"Belle!" Eddie reprimanded, defensive over his colleague and, well, his friend.

"It's alright." Rachel said softly, knowing that Belle's words came not from a place of malice, but hurt.

"Can I go now?"

"Yes, Belle, you can go." Rachel said, trying and failing to catch her eye.

The moment the door slammed behind her daughter, Rachel slumped into her seat, massaging her forehead delicately.

"It'll get better." Eddie told her, moving closer to the desk.

"Hopefully…" She looked doubtful.

"It will! D'you want me to ask Tom to have a word with her?"

"No. No, I don't think she'd respond very well to attention being drawn to the issue. Just maybe," she considered briefly, "maybe ask Matt to keep an eye on her? He spends a lot of time with her anyway, what with her extra music lessons and her helping him with the musical. Just- keep it low key."

"Will do."

He left, and Rachel rested her head in her hands. She couldn't tell if the headache she could feel was from lack of sleep or stress. Probably both.

* * *

Belle spent her entire day avoiding the main student body. Her close friends had already been filled in by Bolton, and had purposely avoided the subject, for which she was grateful.

She had music last period, and she could practically feel her teacher's eyes on her for the whole lesson. If she could just make it to the last bell, she told herself, it would be just fine. Just half an hour left-

"Oi Munroe!" Michaela shouted, sauntering across the classroom towards her.

Belle knew it was too much to ask for. "What?"

"Is it true? You're Mason's kid?"

Belle gritted her teeth. "Not by choice, I can assure you."

"But you are?" The other girl pressed. Belle's silence was an answer in itself and Michaela sniggered. "So yer mum chooses to spend every week looking after hundreds of kids, but _you_ were so crap that she dumped you."

Belle drew her fist back, but before she could connect with Michaela's face, she found herself being held back by her teacher. Matt gripped her around the arms and hauled her from the room, Belle struggling against him the whole time.

Once out of the room, Matt guided her a short way down the corridor and out of sight of the classroom. Keeping his hands on her arms, he stood in front of her, crouching slightly to see eye to eye, not that she was looking at him.

"Deep breaths, Belle. Calm yourself down."

"Sir, she-!"

"I know! I know, and believe me she won't get away with it. But if you hit her you've not only gotten yourself in trouble, but you've proven to her that she can get to you."

"But she _can_!" Belle said, frowning deeply and breaking out of her teacher's hold to pace heatedly.

"That's exactly what she wants to hear, Belle! Do you really want to give Michaela White what she wants?"

"_No_!"

"So calm yourself down, and prove her wrong!"

"_I can't._" She was clenching and unclenching her fists, and her jaw was working furiously.

"You can't what?" Matt was patient, keeping his voice level and his face showing only compassion and concern.

"_I can't calm down._"

He took the girl in, the restless energy that she was clearly trying to work out, the eyes darting all over, the way her breaths were coming out heavy and fast. She was going to work herself into a panic attack if she wasn't careful.

"Right. Alright. Belle… Belle?" He waved a hand to get her attention, which was drifting. "Give me one second, stay here."

She barely acknowledged him, just continued to pace.

"Isabelle!"

She looked up at that. People rarely used her full name, unless they were berating her...or unless they were her mother, but that was another matter entirely.

"Belle, will you wait here? I need you to promise me that if I leave you alone for a minute you'll still be here when I come back."

She nodded, meeting his eye at last. "Okay."

Matt dashed back into the classroom, leaving Belle alone.

She continued to pace. She wanted to scream, to scream as loudly and for as long as she possibly could- and she had the lungs of a flute player, it would be _very_ loud and _very_ long. There was a pressure building up inside her- this was more than anger, more than rage. This was years of emotions that she'd kept inside; like a cola bottle, being shaken up over again, and she was just about ready to explode. She was unsure whether it would end in sobbing or screaming, but something would have to be done to release the pressure, or she'd just...break.

She thought about the smashed glass bottles she'd seen when they were overshaken.

She shut her eyes tight and resumed pacing.

"Belle!" Matt said, exiting the classroom, her backpack and ukulele case in his hands. "Come with me."

"What about-" she glanced at the classroom door.

"They'll be fine for a little while. Come on." He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but relax a little. She felt a little of the mounting pressure begin to die down.

He led her to the pastoral care office, and as soon as she realised where she was, she stopped dead. "Nuh-uh."

Matt turned around. "Belle," he waited until she looked at him properly, "do you trust me?"

"I dunno." She clenched her fists again, her nails digging into her palms.

"Even just a little bit?" He coaxed.

"Maybe. You're not as bad as the rest of the teachers, I guess."

"Good to know." He said, trying to keep the amused note out of his voice. "Now, I'm gonna need you to rely on that maybe-trust, alright? Mr Clarkson doesn't bite. I'll tell him what happened; you don't even have to talk at all. But this office is a safe space for you, you won't be around dozens of students asking you questions, _or_ Michaela winding you up. Does that sound alright?"

She shifted her weight onto one foot. "I'm not gonna talk."

"That's not a problem. I just think some quiet away from it all will do you good."

She eventually nodded. Her breathing had calmed, but she still held her anger in her face and body language.

Matt pushed open the door, allowing her to walk in first. Tom sat at his desk, marking papers. At Matt's signal, he left the room, leaving Belle to take a seat on one of the sofa's inside.

"What's gone on?" Tom asked curiously.

"I had to hold her back from punching Michaela White."

"Bloody hell…"

"To be honest, Tom, I don't blame her. I was of half a mind to let her." He explained what had happened.

Tom nodded. "I'll shoot Rachel an email to let her know. Maybe she'll be able to stop Michaela mouthing off."

Matt humphed. "She'd have to be a miracle worker. Anyway, I couldn't just send Belle to the cooler, you should have seen the state she was in, I thought she was going to have a panic attack!"

"I'll keep an eye on her Matt, even if she doesn't want to talk."

"Thanks, Tom."

He left to go back to class, and Tom turned to observe the girl through the window- she;d brought out her ukulele and was plucking at the strings quietly, the music seemingly bringing her some calm. He had no clue how to help her circumstances, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try.

* * *

**So I'm not overly happy with this chapter (mostly the second part), but I've reworked it way too many times already so I'm just going to leave it as it is now. I just wanted to show how the other teachers were interacting, especially Matt as I thought Belle would be closer to him what with her music and that. As always, any suggestions or improvements are welcome, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!**

**As another side note- updates may start being slower because I'm in the process of trying to move out of my parents (at the age of 21 it's gonna be a relief!), so flat viewings as well as working extra shifts to save up more money is taking up more time. I'll try to keep chapters less than a week apart though, just to keep my momentum going more than anything else. Thanks again -Elvii :)**


	7. SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

It had been a week, and despite Jonathan agreeing to let her stay at Waterloo Road, things had not been easy at home for Belle. The morning she'd been late had been less of a _conversation_ and more him yelling and taking all of his frustrations out on his daughter. She'd been late because she'd had to stop in some public toilets to patch herself up and make sure none of her injuries were visible.

It hadn't improved. She could hear her dad on the phone to Rachel often in the evenings, shouting mostly. From what she could make out, her mother wanted to see her. Nobody was taking into account what _she_ wanted, but nothing was new there. And when her dad wasn't yelling down the phone, he was yelling at her...and hitting her. Her torso was black and blue, and so was her back. She had a slowly healing cut on her leg from where he'd smashed a vase and shoved her onto the floor on top of the broken glass. It was getting worse, and she was having to come up with increasingly unbelievable excuses for getting out of P.E.

Her teachers were starting to pick up on it, but they had no concrete evidence and she was definitely not talking. She'd spend a little more time in the pastoral care office when she felt herself wanting to scream again; Tom had become somewhat used to her presence, and her ukulele playing softly in the background whilst he was marking. She was still silent, other than the occasional comment about her english studies, and she still clammed up at just the mention of her mother's name, but there hadn't been any more major incidents.

Rachel, meanwhile, had been trying to keep an eye on the girl from afar, waiting for her to wrap her head around everything before attempting to build their relationship. She'd appreciated Eddie's support, both in keeping her spirits up and in helping subdue the rumours flying round the school. She'd had to tell the staff the truth, but with both Steph Haydock's penchant for gossip _and _the student's, the corridors were alight with whispers.

That was, until, there was something new to take their place. Like, for instance, the skeleton of a baby being found on the grounds of the school.

Rachel was _really_ starting to wish day drinking was acceptable for a head teacher.

* * *

"Oh come on Aleesha, stop being so up yourself!" Belle was pleading with her moody friend. "Mr Wilding's just tryna make sure everyone's completely ready, and that means _rehearsing_!"

"It's alright for you, you just sit at the piano! I'm the one everyone'll be looking at! I need to rest my voice!" Aleesha insisted, dramatic as ever.

"Well, I think you're a bit young to worry about harming your voice!" Their french teacher said.

"You could try talking less?" Brett sniped, causing Belle to roll her eyes. "That would help, enormously."

Belle felt a tap on her shoulder from her music teacher and took the hint to start playing again before her friend had the chance to retort. Brett started singing again, until a loud bang from the corridor stopped them all as they turned to see the commotion.

She watched as Mr Budgen stormed down the corridor, closely followed by Mr Lawson and her mother, who met her eyes as she strode past, a crease appearing between her brows as she caught sight of her daughter. Belle wondered what the hell was going on _this_ time. She wasn't alone, apparently.

"Are we under attack or something?" Steph exclaimed from next to the piano.

"How can we concentrate with this racket?" Aleesha complained loudly.

Belle admitted to herself that her friend had a point, but didn't say anything, recognising that her annoyance undoubtedly came from seeing her mum as opposed to the noise.

"Just try and shut it out." Matt said.

"Does anyone else find diva teenagers a bit depressing?" Brett smirked as a few titters came from the rest of the students.

"Give it a rest, Brett." Belle turned to him with a glare.

Her friend shot her a grateful look quickly, before turning back to her co-star. "Everyone knows you'd rather have Mika doing it than me."

"Spot on there!"

Belle sighed, frustrated. The pair of them were being ridiculous.

Aleesha scowled. "If you don't take that back, I'm walking."

"Oh for goodness sake, lighten up, Aleesha." Steph's comment made no difference on the teenager.

"I mean it!"

"Brett," Matt sighed, "could you apologise, please?"

"You think she's gonna walk off this?" Brett said with a raise of his brow. "No chance!"

Both teachers exchanged a look with each other, then Belle, who seemed to be the only other person in the room with a brain cell today. Belle resisted the urge to bang her head on the piano. This musical was meant to be her _escape_ from the drama in her life, not more drama on top of it.

"There's the door." Brett pointed, looking at Aleesha expectantly.

Aleesha looked at Belle, who shot her a pleading look. Matt and Steph rolled their eyes at each other behind her.

"Are we practicing or not?" The girl eventually mumbled.

Belle let out a small smile as her fingers picked up the melody once more, and she focussed on the keys.

* * *

It was only a short while later that they found out what the cause of the commotion was. She was sitting in Mr Budgen's classroom, in front of Danielle and Aleesha, with Rachel standing at the front telling them about the baby's remains found on school grounds. She stared out the window, tuning out the rest of her mother's speech about being able to talk to the staff, lost in thought.

Rachel couldn't help but let her eyes drift over to her daughter every few seconds, and it didn't escape her notice that she wasn't paying attention. She frowned as her mind raced internally. She had _no clue_ what Belle had gone through the past ten years, who she'd hung out with, dated- for all she knew, the girl could be the mother. The idea made her nauseous. She pushed the thought back and left the classroom.

* * *

Barely an hour after that and they were back in the music room, Belle sat, idly playing the piano quietly; half listening to Matt talking to Brett and Aleesha and half keeping an eye on her mother, who was talking to Steph and the police officer. She noticed both her french and head teacher shoot her small glances once or twice, and she could feel her anger start to bubble away. She focussed on her breathing, and on the four notes she was playing repetitively.

The word _hypocrite_ swam around her head. Rachel was acting so concerned about this baby and it's mother, but she couldn't help but think that she herself could be long dead and her mother wouldn't know or care. The word _abandoned_ joined the chorus in her head, and her breathing got heavier. She thought of all the times her dad had nearly gone too far. She thought of just the other night, when he'd thrown a plate and she'd barely ducked in time. Her finger slipped, and the note echoed loudly throughout the room, drawing all eyes to her.

"Sorry." She muttered, removing her hands from the piano. She could feel the blood rushing through her ears.

Rachel's concern for her daughter only grew. She forced herself to turn back and finish her conversation before leaving the room, waiting in the hallway with the detective for Steph to join them.

Apparently she wasn't the only one to notice Belle's behaviour, however, and she watched the woman try to subtly usher the redhead out of the room, talking to her quietly. If the look on the girl's face was anything to go by, she wasn't doing a very good job.

"Nobody's accusing you of anything, Belle-"

"Clearly they are!"

"I just think it'd be a good idea for you to have a talk with us, is all."

They were out the room now, and Rachel could once more recognise the laboured breathing and clenched fists that indicated Isabelle was struggling to keep her temper in check.

"There's nothing to talk about!" She shouted. Her eyes drifted over to the detective and then to Rachel, at which point her expression darkened. "Abandoning children isn't a genetic trait, y'know!" With that, she turned heel and stormed down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Steph turned to Rachel sheepishly. "That could have gone better."

Rachel didn't meet anyone's gaze as she mentally shook herself. "It could, yes."

"I just thought, what with the issues currently being raised about her home life-"

"Yes, I know what you thought, Steph, but she was already worked up in there. It might have been better to try and talk to her alone?"

Steph only nodded, and as Rachel left, she turned to the detective to explain exactly what had gone on.

* * *

Belle more or less threw herself into the pastoral care office, and Tom looked up in surprise.

"Belle! Is everything alright?" He wasn't really expecting an answer; he didn't usually get one, just a shrug or an affirmative mumble, or nothing at all as she slumped onto the sofa.

This time was different. She chucked her backpack onto one of the chairs but continued to pace, clenching and unclenching her hands as she gasped for breath. "She- she's such a- a hypocrite!" Belle spat, half choking on her words.

Tom stood up and walked round to the other side of the desk, but didn't approach her, sensing that she needed space. "Your mum, I'm assuming?"

Belle didn't confirm or deny, only continued. "Acting all _worried_ and fussing over this baby. She- she left her own child, her freaking _daughter_! I could be _dead_! She wasn't as concerned then!" She seemed to run out of steam after that, sinking down onto the floor to sit cross legged.

Tom was somewhat blown away. For Belle, this was a breakthrough… or a breakdown. Until this point, she'd refused to talk about anything at all. He awkwardly lowered himself to sit facing her.

"Do you want my opinion?" He asked.

"Are you going to give it to me anyway?" Belle scoffed with a frown.

"No, not if you don't want it. I can talk this all through with you, maybe help you see your mum's side of things… or I can not. We can just sit here. We can talk about music, or about your last essay, or we can not talk at all." She looked at him dubiously. "This is a safe space for you, Belle. What you do in here is entirely up to you."

She considered for a moment. She looked sad, deflated. A change from her usual bluster and anger. "So what's your opinion?"

Tom took a breath. "I think your mum isn't acting. She _is_ worried, about this baby and it's mother, and about you." He paused, waiting for her to react. When she didn't, he carried on. "She didn't abandon you for death: she left you with your dad, expecting him to take care of you and love you no matter what." He chose his words carefully. "Does he do that?"

She immediately stiffened, and her answer was almost robotic. "Of course he does."

Tom frowned, but decided against pushing her now. "Ok then. There may be an element of hypocrisy in this situation, but there's a hell of a lot more to it, and I think an intelligent girl like you knows that, hm?"

Belle looked up, tears swimming in her eyes before she furiously swiped them away. "Maybe." She said it with an air of finality, and Tom recognised it as her way of putting an end to the conversation: she was done talking now.

"Can I give you one piece of advice? You don't have to listen to it, you can chuck it right out the window if you want to!" Tom ventured after they'd stood up.

"What?" She asked reluctantly, grabbing her bag.

"Give your mum a chance." He said, before sitting back down and pretending to focus on his marking so she wouldn't feel the pressure of his gaze.

She frowned deeply and said nothing, opting instead to just walk out. But the fact that she didn't slam the door behind her told Tom that there was a small chance he'd gotten through to her- even just a little bit.

* * *

**Hi! So sorry about the wait! Like I said, got a lot going on and finding time to write has been hard. I was going to include a slightly edited version of the conversations between Rachel and Eddie at the end of this episode, but I can't get a proper transcript online and watching the episode and pausing it whilst I type just to add in a few bits of dialogue in **_so_** time-consuming, and I can imagine it to be boring to read as well, seeing as you've already watched the episode! **

**I thought it was finally time for Belle to open up a little bit, even if it's not about her dad, but I promise that _is_ coming! I figured Tom would be a good person to chat to, being the head of pastoral care and a popular teacher, plus I just like him as a character! I'll try to update soon, but until life becomes less hectic no promises can be made! As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! :)**


	8. EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Michaela!" Belle shouted, running across the playground as she arrived barely ten minutes before the bell rang.

She'd been having less and less of her early mornings; her dad had clocked on to her sneaking out, and had put a swift, painful stop to it. Now, her mornings were spent much the same as her evenings: being used as a punching bag.

Michaela turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"I need you to punch me."

"_What_?!"

Belle looked up, allowing the other girl to see the black eye forming on the right hand side of her face. Michaela gasped.

"How'd you get that?"

"It doesn't matter, but if a teacher sees it it'll just be more drama and I _really _can't be doing with the questions so if I take the blame, will you just punch me so it looks like it came from you?"

Seeing the desperate look in her classmate's eyes, Michaela frowned. "You take _full_ blame."

"One hundred percent!" Belle let out a relieved breath.

"But this is a one-off, yeah? This happens again," she indicated the rapidly forming bruise on Belle's face, "you tell someone. Nobody should get away with that."

"Deal." Belle agreed weakly.

Michaela paused for a moment, before swinging her fist at Belle's face. Within moments the two were fighting, a re-enactment of their previous classroom brawl.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the pair were sat outside the head's office. Belle's black eye had fully developed into a deep purple, and Michaela had a split lip.

"Girls, inside. Now." Rachel held the door open and they trudged into the office.

Before the headmistress could even open her mouth Belle jumped in.

"It was my fault."

Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "Isabelle?"

"I was in a bad mood, winding Michaela up and that. I started it."

Rachel scrutinised her carefully. "Michaela, is this true?"

"Yes, Miss."

Flicking her eyes between the two girls once more, she eventually gave in. "Alright. Michaela, go to registration. Report for detention this lunch, please."

Michaela shuffled from the room, uttering a groan but saying nothing more, undoubtedly thinking of all the ways Belle would owe her one for this.

As the door closed behind her, Belle felt the full weight of her mother's gaze rest upon her.

"To say I'm disappointed is an understatement, Isabelle."

Belle rolled her eyes, forcing the mask of indifference onto her face; in reality, her leg hurt to stand on, her eye was throbbing, and her wrist ached from where she'd fallen on it funny after being thrown across the room by that morning's punch.

Rachel's eyes narrowed, trying to read the girl's face. "Any particular reason you decided to start a fight? You're sure nothing was said-?"

"Like I said, I was in a bad mood." Belle muttered, keeping her gaze on the floor.

Rachel had a mental flick through of all her concerns as she observed the demeanour of the girl before her. Belle was usually so outspoken, so angry towards her- and whilst Rachel had to admit it was a nice change not to face her animosity, it was disconcerting, and only added to her worry. And while it wasn't at all unusual for Belle to be in a fist fight, there was always a provocation. Her daughter was hot-headed, but not antagonistic. She decided to probe further. "Why were you in a bad mood?"

"No reason."

"None at all?"

"There doesn't always have to be a reason."

"There usually is with you." Rachel held her breath, waiting for the insult, the comment about how she wouldn't know, not having been there for ten years.

"Not this time. Just a bad mood." Belle shifted her weight around, trying to ignore the pain.

Now Rachel was truly worried. "Isabelle," she paused, unsure of how to approach this, "will you sit with me?" She indicated the sofas in the corner of her office.

"Why?" Belle was starting to get agitated now. "Can't you just give me my punishment and let me leave?"

"I don't believe you when you say it's '_just a bad mood'_. I want to help you."

"Bit late for that." Belle uttered under her breath, so quietly Rachel barely heard her.

"Belle-" she reached out and held her wrist loosely, meaning it as a comforting gesture, but to her surprise Belle gasped (in anger? Shock? Pain? She couldn't tell) and wrenched her arm away, taking several steps back and lifting her arms out somewhat defensively.

"Just...just leave me alone, Rachel. For god's sake, do what you do best and _leave me alone_!" Belle blinked, trying not to let her mother see her tears, and she dashed from the room, not stopping until she reached the girl's toilets where she locked herself in a cubicle and _finally _allowed herself to cry.

* * *

During her maths class, she was informed by Eddie that she had detention every lunch that week. She said nothing, only nodding. Bolton was nudging her, asking what had happened, but she wouldn't give him anything other than "fight with Michaela".

Eddie didn't miss the concerned glances Bolton was sending her way- evidently it wasn't just the staff noticing something was amiss with the girl.

* * *

It was only at break, when the pair were sitting on the steps outside and her sleeve rode up that Bolton actually confronted her about it.

"Yo Belle, 'sup with your wrist?"

The wrist in question was red and swollen, and looked a lot worse than it had before. She supposed her fight plus writing with it all morning hadn't done it any favours.

Belle pulled her sleeve down hurriedly. "Nothing."

"That ain't nothing. Did that happen with Michaela this morning?"

Belle jumped on the excuse being offered. "Probably, yeah. But it's fine, it looks worse than it is."

Bolton narrowed his eyes. "How d'you know that if you've only just noticed it?"

"'Cos it feels alright. If it was anything to worry about, it'd hurt more." She shot him an unconvincing smile.

"You should probably still go to the nurse though. Looks well swollen, you might've sprained it or somethin'."

"If it starts to hurt, I will, okay?" She said, more to appease him than anything else.

"You promise?" He prompted, making the unexpected move to grab her uninjured hand in his.

Belle stared at their now-conjoined hands in surprise before giving him a soft smile. "Promise."

Before either of them could say any more, they were interrupted.

"Belle Munroe, could I have a word?" Tom Clarkson called across the courtyard.

Belle frowned and let a groan slip past her lips. "Coming!"

"What's that about?" Bolton asked as she stood up, allowing her hand to pull away from his.

"Probably the fight this morning, me losing my temper and all that. I'll see you later."

* * *

She followed Tom inside and down the now familiar route to the pastoral care office, arriving just as the bell went for third period.

"It was nothing, I swear," she said as she threw herself onto the armchair next to his desk, pulling her feet up and hugging them to her. "It was just a stupid scrap, not the first time, won't be the last."

Tom moved his chair closer to hers so he was directly opposite before sitting. "While I appreciate your assurance that it'll definitely happen again, Belle, this isn't about you fighting with Michaela White."

This threw her. "What is it about then? Because I still don't want to talk to my mother."

"Not that either." Tom chose his words carefully, aware that it would be entirely too easy to set her off. "Belle, you know the teachers at this school are always looking out for you, and want the best for you."

Her eyes narrowed and she hugged her knees tighter but she said nothing.

He took this as a cue to continue. "Some…concerns have been raised recently, about your home life."

"They're wrong! You're wrong! Everything's fine!" She jumped it, eyes wide and panicked.

"Belle, you can talk to me, I'm here to help-"

"No, you're here to make me talk! You think that just because I opened up to you that one time I'll suddenly get all touchy-feely and want to share everything!" Belle had uncurled, her hands now gripping the arms of the chair as she sat right on the edge, preparing to launch herself out of it if need be.

"That's not it at all! There is something to share though, isn't there?" Tom tried to keep his voice calm and understanding.

"No!" She was shouting now, and breathing heavily. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about! All of you just need to _leave me alone_!" She threw herself out of her seat and bolted for the door, not even stopping to pick up her bag from the floor.

Tom ran after her, calling her name, but she was through the front doors and out the gate long before he got there.

He watched her sprint down the road and wondered how he was going to break it to Rachel that he'd let her daughter run away.

"Bugger." He muttered, before turning and heading towards the head's office.

* * *

Belle was running. She didn't know where, she just knew that if she stopped then her whole world might just collapse. Everything was closing in, and she couldn't stop it; she couldn't control it any longer. It was all her fault, and he was going to _kill _her.

She made a turn, realising she was near the park. Focussing on the feel of her feet thudding against the concrete one after the other, she followed the route that would take her there.

* * *

**So sorry for the wait between chapters, guys! As we all know, the apocalypse is here, bringing with it a myriad of problems. I finally got round to posting this chapter, but I'm not really happy with it, it's more of a function than anything, just trying to get the characters where I want them to be.**

**I hope you're all coping as best you can, and remember- stay safe, stay inside, and wash your hands!**

**Much love 3**


	9. NINE

**A quick update! Lockdown gives me time to write, but I can't promise ****consistency XD This is rushed and unedited because I just wanted to get it all out while I was in the groove, so any mistakes or suggested edits are free to be pointed out!**

**A long overdue conversation is here... just not the one that they're trying to have! **

**As always, thank you and much love!**

* * *

CHAPTER NINE

"Rachel!" Tom burst through the door to the office, interrupting a quiet conversation between Rachel and Eddie.

"Tom? How did it go with-?" Rachel asked, standing from her seat.

"She bolted." Tom couldn't stop the panic or the guilt from creeping into his demeanor.

"Okay, have you checked the music room?" Eddie asked.

"No, er- she ran out the gates."

"You're kidding!" Eddie groaned.

"I wish to god I was." Tom said grimly.

"Right," Rachel said, trying to compose herself, "right. Did you get anything out of her before she ran?"

"Nothing explicit, but she more or less admitted she was hiding _something_. Her reaction when I broached the subject… we're right, Rachel, I'm certain of it."

Rachel closed her eyes briefly and brought her hand up to her mouth in an attempt to suppress the way her lips trembled slightly. After a moment she pulled herself together. "If one of you could speak to Michaela White, that'd be good. There was more to their fight this morning than they told us, and she might know something."

Tom nodded.

"And what are you going to do?" Eddie questioned as Rachel moved to grab her handbag.

"I'm going after her." She replied as though stating the obvious.

"Rach, are you sure that's a good idea?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing full well how tense things were between his colleague and her daughter.

"No, but it's the best one I've got. _Someone_ needs to go after her, and it should be someone she has a connection with, or she'll just run again. I'm her mother, for all my faults, and this is my responsibility." It felt good, to say those words out loud properly. She _was_ Belle's mother, no matter what.

As Eddie and Rachel stared each other down, Tom cleared his throat to draw their attention to him. "Rachel might actually be the best choice… Right now, Belle's scared, and fight or flight kicked in."

"She chose flight." Eddie nodded, following what the other man was saying.

"Right! But she's got a temper- her response is usually fight. _Maybe_, if she's with Rachel- I mean," Tom shot a glance at his boss, who's keys were in her hand by now, "best case scenario, you actually get her to open up. _But_, worse case scenario-"

"Her anger overrules her fear, so she won't run away again." Rachel finished for him.

He nodded. "It's just a thought, I'm no psychologist."

"No, you may have a point there," Eddie agreed, "right; I'll stay here to keep an eye on the place; Tom, you go hunt down Michaela White. Rachel- good luck."

* * *

Belle didn't stop running when she got to the park gates. There was a small path around the edge of the field that looped around, and she continued running along it.

If she stopped running, she didn't know what would happen; whether she would sob or shout or lose all her ability to function. It was safer to keep running.

Her feet pounding against the ground formed a rhythm that she found herself focussing on- it matched the incessant booming of her heart, and her breaths which were coming out fast and loud as she tried to keep her pace up. Her adrenaline was dying down, though, and she wasn't much of a runner.

There was a small bench just outside the park gates that faced the houses on the other side. Her legs trembling from over exerting herself, Belle lowered herself onto it. The road was a small residential one, off from the main road slightly, close enough that she could hear the cars, but quiet enough that the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears was the loudest thing she could hear.

It was only after a few minutes had passed that she realised she had no plan. She didn't want to go back to school- there would only be trouble and yet more invasive questions from her teachers. Then again, she couldn't go home. Her dad was working from there today, rather than his firm's office. She'd have to explain to him why she'd left school, and how she'd let him down by tipping the teachers off and that would lead to a world of pain- she shook as the thought hit her: she didn't know if she'd be able to survive his anger at this.

A sob escaped before she could stop it, and she buried her face in her hands. The prospect of running away was sounding pretty appealing at this moment, but one thought about what almost happened to Chlo only recently was enough to put those thoughts to bed.

Belle was alone- she had no one, in her mind, that she could turn to. Her friends would go to the teachers, her teachers would go to social services, her dad would find out… it was a dangerous game of dominoes to play. She didn't see a way that she could win. She had no one.

* * *

Following the way Tom had seen the girl go, Rachel drove round the streets near the school, keeping her eyes peeled for a familiar head of red hair. So far, she was having no luck. She didn't know her daughter well enough to know where she'd head to either. Turning down yet another side road, she was close to losing hope when she saw her: slumped on a bench with her head in her hands. Rachel's heart almost broke at the sight of her.

Parking nearby, she made her way over, walking slowly so as not to startle her but making enough noise that she would know she was there. Belle froze slightly and seemed to hold her breath as she approached, but made no move to stop her.

Rachel sat down next to her and, acting purely on instinct, wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close. To her immense surprise, Belle didn't pull away, but leant into her, letting out the breath she'd held and allowing herself to cry, still not moving her hands from her face.

"Shhh...it's alright, it's going to be okay…" Rachel rubbed Belle's arm comfortingly as she murmured idle nothings in an attempt to soothe her. "You're going to be _just fine_, I promise you."

Eventually, the girl calmed down and sat up, and Rachel let her arms drop from around her, sensing that if she tried to hold onto her, she'd only succeed in pushing her away- both literally and figuratively.

Belle wiped the tears from her face and heaved several deep breaths before eventually speaking. "How much trouble am I in?"

Rachel smiled softly at that being the first thing out of her mouth; avoidance and practicality all in one- definitely her daughter. "Not as much as you think."

"_I ran away from school."_Belle said bluntly, with an air of disbelief. She didn't look at Rachel directly still, but she turned her body towards her, which her mother counted as a minor victory.

"There were... extenuating circumstances. Nobody's angry, just concerned."

"I wish you'd all stop being so _bloody concerned _about me."

"You know that's not going to happen."

Belle looked up properly to find her mother's gaze already on her. "Why did you leave me?"

Tears pooled in Rachel's eyes before she could stop them. She knew it was a distraction tactic from the real issue here, but she also knew that it was a genuine question, and it was Belle's way of determining whether or not to trust her. "I didn't mean to, not at first."

"No, I know all that," Belle cut across her, "let me rephrase: why did you let me go? Why didn't you _try_ to see me again?"

"I suppose…" Rachel spoke slowly, admitting to herself as well as her daughter, "I was scared. You may find this hard to believe but I wasn't always an upstanding headmistress. There are parts of my past that I'm not proud of, and I was scared that I never really stopped being the person I was back then. I was _terrified_ I'd mess up being a parent."

Belle frowned. "So you just decided not to be one?" There was anger in her voice, but mostly she just sounded exhausted, and upset.

"You were happy, Isabelle. While I was finishing my studies, I spoke to you and your father on the phone and you were _happy_, and when I returned during the holidays your dad was taking care of you so well. You didn't need me."

"I can understand, sort of, but- it wasn't your call as to whether I needed you or not."

"Believe me, I realise that now. There is nothing I regret more in my life than leaving you."

Belle looked away again, staring across the street. "Mr Clarkson said that I should give you a chance."

Rachel dried her eyes quickly and dared to allow her hopes to rise. "He did?"

"Yeah. I had a bit of a breakdown, shouted that you were a hypocrite. Which I still think you are," she added sternly, "he listened to me, and he said I should give you a chance."

Rachel nodded slowly. She _was _a hypocrite, she knew. She couldn't blame her daughter for thinking that. "And what do you think?"

"I think he would never have said anything other than that because you're his boss."

Rachel let out an involuntary chuckle.

Belle shot her a reproachful glare, "_but_! I think he might not have been totally wrong. Not because you deserve it, but because I need _someone_. And you're my mum."

Rachel cautiously reached out to hold her daughter's hand, and Belle gripped it back tightly.

"I'm here, Belle," Rachel said, and the girl's eyes shot up to meet hers at the first use of her nickname, "for however long you need me, _I'm here_."

* * *

**So there we go. _Finally_ some progress between these two! Will it last? Pffffft, probably not...**


	10. TEN

CHAPTER TEN

The pair stayed on the bench for a while, still gripping each other's hand. Rachel didn't push her to talk about anything else, although she desperately wanted to. She knew that today had been a huge breakthrough, and was reluctant to push her any further, knowing the girl's tendency to lash out.

Belle was mostly silent on the drive back, answering the few questions sent her way shortly and evasively. At one point, though, Rachel reached over to place a hand on her knee, and Belle grabbed it and clung on tightly, like it was a lifeline. She only let go when they pulled into the school's carpark.

The silence persisted all the way to Rachel's office, and Rachel observed that she barely seemed to notice what was happening, just following her blindly.

"Wait out here for one moment, I just need to speak to Mr Lawson." Rachel said, touching her arm gently to draw attention. Again, she didn't flinch away; a good sign.

Belle merely nodded, and Rachel could practically see the thoughts racing through her head as her eyes darted about, but she took a seat without question.

Eddie looked up as Rachel entered the office and raised an eyebrow in question. He let out a relieved sigh at her answering nod, the pair somehow managing to have a full conversation with no words passing their lips.

He stood from her chair and crossed the room to stand in front of her.

"Tom spoke to Michaela."

"And?" Rachel asked.

"Took a bit of compelling, but she eventually admitted that Belle already had the black eye when she got to school- she'd _asked_ Michaela to fight so nobody would know."

"_Christ_."

"That was our reaction, yeah. Tom's putting together a full report; all the incidents, comments, observations. He's got a statement from Michaela, too. But if we want to contact social services with our suspicions, we really need Belle to talk, because everything else can be dismissed as circumstantial if Jonathan contests it."

The crease between Rachel's brows deepened as she nodded in understanding.

Eddie grimaced slightly as he glanced at the closed door that concealed the girl in question from them. "Do you think she'll-?"

"Honestly? No clue. She opened up today in a way she's never done before, I'd go so far as to say we had a breakthrough. But since, she's closed down again, barely spoken, won't look at me… if I had to guess, I'd say she's second guessing it already. I don't know if we should try to talk to her now, before she can shut herself off again completely, or give her some time to breathe before approaching her."

Eddie let out a breath, contemplating. "In my experience, putting a conversation like this off never did any good. And she knows it's going to happen, so she _will_ be building that wall up in anticipation of that. But, well, we all know she's prone to being volatile when agitated. Your call, Rach."

"I'll approach the subject cautiously, see how she reacts. At any rate, we can't leave her sitting out there much longer."

"Alright, I've got a class to teach anyway. Let me know how it goes later?"

"Will do. And thanks...for everything."

He reached out and gave her arm a comforting squeeze. "Any time." The words seemed to hold more weight that perhaps intended, but he couldn't bring himself to lighten them with another comment. He just moved around her to leave the room, neither acknowledging the slight pang of disappointment felt when physical contact was lost.

"You can go in now, kid." He said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Belle barely even acknowledged him, and if she hadn't followed his instructions he'd have thought she didn't hear him at all.

He couldn't help but think that Rachel had a hard challenge on her hands as he watched the door close behind the teen.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked, leading her daughter over to the sofa.

She was met with a non-committal shrug.

"Belle, I need you to work with me here." She practically pleaded.

"I have! Are you not done interrogating me today?"

"I'm not _interrogating _you, we're all just… a little bit concerned. You said before that you needed someone?"

Belle made a low noise of affirmation.

"Let us help," Rachel implored, "let _me_ help."

Belle's brow furrowed and her mouth tightened into a thin line. "And how are you gonna do that?"

Rachel was taken aback somewhat by the question. "Well, you tell me. I can't do anything until you talk to me." As her daughter's frown deepened and her body language closed off more still, she tried again. "Or if not me, one of your other teachers? Mr Clarkson, or Mr Wilding? We're all here for you, Belle."

"None of you can do anything, don't you get it?!" She stood up, full of anxious energy, and began to pace.

"No, I don't get it! Explain it to me, please!" Rachel stayed sitting, hoping it would allow Belle to feel more in control.

"I… I can't!" Belle seemed to struggle with her words for a few moments, wringing her hands together. "You don't understand, it'll just make it worse."

"I promise you, it won't. I won't let anything happen to you-"

Belle scoffed, effectively cutting her mother off. "And I'm supposed to believe that?! _You already have!_" She hurled the words out like knives, before clamping her mouth shut abruptly, eyes wide and fearful.

"Belle." Rachel said gently, standing up and making her way slowly and carefully towards her daughter, much in the way one might edge towards a potentially active landmine to disarm it. "Belle, please. I'm sorry; I am so, _so_ sorry I haven't been there for you, but you _have_ to let me help you now." Rachel took her daughter's shaking hands in her own and waited until her darting eyes finally settled on her own. She lowered her voice to barely more than a pleading whisper: "Tell me."

Belle took a shuddering breath in and closed her eyes tightly, the action forcing a few tears that had been swimming in her eyes to fall onto her cheeks. "Ok."

* * *

**Sorry for the long gap, I went through some trauma and lost my will to live, let alone write for some time. Building myself up again slowly though. I know this chapter is very short, but I thought just writing _something _would be better than nothing at all. Thanks to anybody who's stuck with me this far. x**


End file.
